Fingernails
by Starchild Blue
Summary: [Oneshot] After HBP. Draco Malfoy is captured and held in for questioning by the Ministry, Harry Potter pays him visits with boxed lunches. Not the best summary in the world, but better than nothing. DMHP.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter yada yada.

One shot fic, I have a habit of biting my nails sometimes and it manifested itself into this. Enjoy.

* * *

It's just nail biting, nothing wrong with it, right? 

Wrong.

Nail biting was nothing more than a dirty and disgusting habit. Nothing a Malfoy should be engaging in, not even subconsciously. Such a thing would be for the likes of a commoner, not someone as high class as Draco.

But there he was, sitting at his table. His eyes staring at the jagged edges of his once perfect nails.

You wouldn't guess such a thing from Draco Malfoy. Everything about him was perfect: his platinum-blond hair, his silver eyes, his flawless and fair face, his expensive wardrobe…

But then there were his nails. Two on one hand were lower than the rest of them, and one on the other. His nails were imperfect—much like his psyche. At least it wasn't the only imperfect thing he had at the moment.

Draco sighed; he could hear the echoes of his father's voice in his head, berating him because of his bad habit. He was only a child back then, he was nervous and worried. Nail biting was normal for a child his age.

"Not for a Malfoy." Lucius said, and started to wean the boy off of his fingers; a week of punishments if he saw that Draco's nails was imperfect at the slightest.

Draco sighed; it wasn't as if he could help it. He always had a tendency to do it when he was under stress or was nervous. He hadn't done this for almost his whole life—until a while ago.

It was after Dumbledore's death, and he escaped with Severus only a year ago. Draco was forced to go into hiding for what he tried to do. He and Severus became fugitives, every Auror set out with their mind set on capturing Dumbledore's murderers. Draco began to tense up under the pressure, every day he began to wonder 'is this the day they're going to find me?' He started to bite his nails then.

It was only six months later when Draco was captured. He was thrown into Azkaban and waited a week until he was transferred out of there and into a single room inside the walls of the Ministry. He was to explain everything under Veritaserum to a witness. Draco had expected a full room, but was shocked to see only Harry Potter himself, holding a vial of the clear potion. Harry told him that he requested only a private meeting, and that the Ministry would get everything in writing.

That added to Draco's vast amount of wandering thoughts. Nevertheless, he thought it was to be a Godsend; he complied to taking the Veritaserum with much less nervousness and worry than if he was in the presence of every Ministry official on duty.

He told Harry everything: How his father promised him to Voldemort, how Voldemort assigned Draco to be the one to take down Dumbledore, how he was forced to do as he said under the blackmail that his parents would suffer the dire consequences if he should fail. Draco explained about after Dumbledore's death, how Severus took him and they fled. They fled as far as their magic could take them, then they fled by foot. With little money, they had to pose as Muggles in a small town to work in a bakery that also offered them a room to sleep. Draco, grudgingly, ran errands and delivered the goods before the newspapers caught up to them. There was Severus and Draco on a Muggle newspaper, with a fake story about them being extremely dangerous criminals. They had to flee again, soon parting to their separate ways to fool with the Aurors. Draco told of how he was hiding in a lonely shack in the middle of a forest, ambushed by twenty Aurors and stunned into obedience.

Draco panicked for a moment when he thought that Harry would doubt the Veritaserum; before he realized that it wasn't possible to lie under its affects. Draco widened his eyes to see that Harry looked almost apologetic. Also, if he was certain, there was a trace of moistness in Harry's eyes, as if he was going to cry. He quickly abandoned the thought with a mental laugh. _Harry, cry for me? No way in hell._ He sniffed.

In the midst of recalling his past, Draco realized he was biting his nails again and quickly lowered them back onto the table. He was growing more anxious by the minute. He looked around his small room. An off-white bed sat in the left corner from where he was sitting, and a dresser was sitting right beside it. His desk was in the opposite corner of the room, the side of it facing the door. This was the room that Harry had told the ministry officials to hold Draco; a simple supervised complex of rooms for people who were under suspicion of wrongdoings, but weren't ready to be placed in Azkaban. Draco was surprised when Harry told him this, wondering why Saint Potter started to become nicer now. Draco shrugged, _pity, _he concluded.

Harry had volunteered to look after Draco, making sure that he had no other intentions other than proving he was innocent. He visited him on schedule every week, around noon, with a boxed lunch. The boxed lunch was the main reason why Draco tolerated being checked up on, for it was a break out of the mundane garbage that the guards slid under his door. He wasn't allowed to venture off into the Ministry cafeteria—even with supervision. Not that it mattered. The food kept him alive, and his weekly surprise box lunch kept him waiting every time. Every week, Harry brought him something different; from fried eggs and sausages one week to chicken and ham pie the next. One time he even had a box full of fresh fruits. He craved the strawberries, still longing for the sweetness on his lips.

Harry always sat and waited while Draco ate. Draco would never notice that Harry never brought some lunch for himself. When it was almost done, Harry would just start talking to him. Nothing personal, just to talk about a Quidditch match or even ask Draco what his interests were. It was only innocent chit-chat to pass the time before Harry had to leave again. Each week, Draco could feel more and more apprehensive when Harry had to leave, wishing they could talk only a little longer.

By the time his wall-clock struck noon, Draco refrained from biting his nails, waiting for the door would unlock to show the Boy-Who-Lived with his goodie box. Draco's lips twitched up into a smile as his wish was granted and there was Harry, looking high in spirits and holding Draco's lunch. "Hey." He said while shutting the door.

Draco nodded, "Hi."

Harry smiled and sat down on the extra chair on the other end of Draco's table. He sat down the box and motioned for Draco to open it. "Probably really hungry today; I saw what the guards picked for you yesterday. Yesterday's mashed potatoes didn't seem entirely filling."

Draco nodded while opening the white box. "Especially when it had bits and pieces of stale meatloaf stuck in it." He looked inside, "French toast! That smells wonderful." Draco licked his lips and took the plate out. He paused, looking at a rectangular package smaller than his palm. "And that is?" He asked while picking it up, looking at the label that said "Mint Flavoured".

Harry grinned, "It's gum. I saw it while getting my morning paper from the vendor and thought of you." He leaned in and whispered; "Now you can have something else to nibble on instead of your nails." He winked.

Draco felt his cheeks becoming warm as he hid his hands under the table. "Thanks." He mumbled.

"No problem." Harry leaned back and smiled at him, "So, are you going to eat that or did I make it for nothing?" He said, gesturing to the French toast.

Draco looked up at him, "You made this?" He asked, almost stunned.

Harry nodded, "That and everything else you have had—besides the fruits, I picked them up at a market." He shrugged, "Is it so hard to believe I can cook worth a damn?"

He shook his head, "No…it's just…you put in the time…for me?"

Harry nodded, his gaze trailing away from Draco's face as he slightly blushed. "Well…go on, eat." He insisted.

After a couple of minutes staring at the tempting meal, Draco dug in. By the time he was finished, nothing was left but a half-empty cup of syrup. The blonde hadn't noticed that Harry was watching him eat with a smile on his face. "So?"

"Good as always. Who taught you to cook?"

"One doesn't leave The Burrow without learning how to do some extra work. Mrs. Weasley was shocked when I asked her to teach me to cook; no one would ever figure that the one who's destined to defeat Voldemort knows how to make home-made fudge." Harry smirked.

Draco couldn't help but imagining Harry Potter giving the Dark Lord a gift of home-made fudge and watching with a smirk as the man choked and died. Defeating Voldemort by feeding him poisoned food.

His thoughts were interrupted at the sound of the other's man's voice, "What?" He asked.

"I said this is going to be your last one." Harry repeated to him, but the look on his face countered with Draco's distress. He wondered why Harry sat there with a look of satisfaction. Was he getting tired of looking after him? Draco was soon hit with the realization that he had come to rely on Harry's visits and wondered why.

"How come?" That was all he could ask.

Harry scowled, "Figures that they wouldn't tell you right away." Harry stood up and went back to the excited grin on his face, "Snape's been captured! Tonks told me they caught him just before he tried to disappear in Amsterdam. We have a full confession that you were forced into it all by Voldemort and the Ministry sees you innocent now that they have testimony."

"It took them long enough." Draco grumbled before the information fully hit him. "You mean—I'm free to leave?" He looked up at Harry, who shook his head. Draco frowned.

"We just need to do some paperwork, it won't take long. That and they want you to be under supervision for at least six months."

Draco grimaced, "I'm free but they still don't trust me. So what Holier-Than-Thou Auror is going to baby-sit me and make sure I don't attempt to hurt any old men?" He said sarcastically.

"Me."

Draco gaped, "You? Don't you have your own thing to do, you know, destroy the Dark Lord and all that shite?" His eyebrow rose.

"Things are slow." Harry shrugged. "The old git isn't going anywhere right now." He sat back down and grinned at Draco. "But this means I'll be cooking for you more than once a week. Maybe I can get you to stop biting your nails as well."

Draco's cheeks flushed as he moved his hands out of Harry's view.

Harry quickly left, and hours after that, Draco was set free. Ultimately he was back at Malfoy Manor with Harry Potter as his keeper. The two lived under one roof for six months. And when that was done, Harry Potter moved in to stay indefinitely.

Draco Malfoy hasn't had the need to bite his fingernails since.


End file.
